


Cold Runs Hot

by Maxine



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Good ol' get together fic, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-26 13:33:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20931053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maxine/pseuds/Maxine
Summary: Galo can't stop thinking about That Thing That Happened and Lio won't stop wearing Galo's clothes.





	Cold Runs Hot

**Author's Note:**

> Saw the movie!! ...And then saw it again.
> 
> And again.
> 
> Have the soundtrack playing constantly on a loop.
> 
> I think it broke me in the best possible way.

The thing is…

THE THING IS.

Okay. Listen.

Galo can’t stop thinking about it. The…life-saving act. Quasi CPR but not really. That time he basically brought Lio back from death’s door.

Fine, the kiss. The fucking kiss, okay, it’s been like two months and it’s still playing in his mind on a loop. It feels emblazoned on his brain, down the most minute detail and the way Lio felt beneath him, but really he’s not sure how much of that is accurate anymore and how much he’s just filled in the blanks during the many moments he’s spent fantasizing–

_Reliving_ that crazy, adrenaline-filled moment that was actually pretty terrifying, if he’s being real. He hadn’t known if it would work, after all, he just knew he’d seen Lio doing the same thing before and desperate times called for desperate measures.

All things considered, maybe it’s kind of wrong to think about it in any way that might be considered…inappropriate…

Ha, no, fuck that. He had his lips freaking glued to Lio’s for a solid thirty seconds and now he can’t wipe the memory from his brain and everything is fine.

IT’S FINE.

Just because Lio hasn’t mentioned it since it happened and never seems to be thinking inappropriate thoughts about Galo, which is just _rude _and unfair, to be completely honest, everything is still fine.

Galo hunches in on himself, burrowing further into the corner of the couch he’s currently occupying in the tiny, shitty apartment he’s been letting Lio stay with him in since the whole Promare incident. It’s actually not that shitty – Galo’s totally okay with it, it’s just that he never used to spend quite so much time here before and having two people around more often than not has made him realize just how little space there is. He used to be at the firehouse almost constantly, whether he was on shift or not, but Lio technically isn’t supposed to be there unless he applies for the academy and clears the rescue course, which…who knows if that will happen. Galo isn’t entirely sure what Lio’s plan is, and he’s not sure that Lio has any idea either.

In the immediate aftermath of their combined passion and flames burning the world to the ground, they’d needed everyone’s help in cleaning up the city. They still need the help, but several weeks later things have recovered enough that they’re back to following the rules and regulations in place and _apparently_ civilians who used to be semi, sort of terrorists can’t just waltz into the fire department and give themselves a job.

He gets it, but it’s still dumb.

Anyway, Galo offered Lio his couch one of the first nights they were cleaning up the city and the guy just never left. Which Galo is completely okay with, even if it means he spends more time in the apartment than he ever used to before.

He just doesn’t want Lio to get lonely or anything. You know. Even though he has other friends…who come over a lot.

Lio actually manages to keep pretty busy doing whatever volunteer work he’s allowed to and helping find homes for the rest of the Burnish who are still struggling to get their lives back on track. But in between all of that, he’s at the apartment. Taking full advantage of learning how to lounge around, catching up on decades’ worth of old TV shows, and–

“Ow, _shit_.”

Burning his hands on Galo’s pots and pans for at least the three-hundredth time.

Galo peeks over the back of the sofa to where Lio is standing in the kitchenette just beyond it. He’s scowling down at his fingers, inspecting the skin there that is quickly turning a bright pink, before he hisses out a breath and shoves his hand under the faucet at the sink.

“Again?” Galo can’t help asking. He does his best not to sound too amused but probably fails miserably.

Lio grumbles something under his breath and shoots a look at Galo out of the corner of his eye. “Shut up,” he mutters, voice low. He’s currently drowning in a sweatshirt that’s got to be at least five sizes too big for him – because it’s one of _his_ sweatshirts, Galo quickly realizes, and he’s pretty sure that’s illegal. Is it illegal? It SHOULD be illegal. It’s completely improper for men of Lio’s stature to go around wearing the gigantic hoodies of their much larger, platonic roommates. How is Galo supposed to focus on literally anything else when Lio is standing around in HIS CLOTHES that DON’T FIT?

So now Galo is staring again. He bites down on his thumbnail as he does, slightly annoyed with himself but not enough to tear his eyes away from the tiny figure in his kitchen attempting to make something as simple as ramen noodles and still somehow managing to forget that he can’t just fucking touch the hot side of a pot on the stove anymore.

After a lifetime of not having to worry about burning yourself, Galo guesses that makes sense.

He also guesses it makes sense that Lio seems to _always_ be cold now, but that doesn’t mean he can just go around stealing Galo’s sweatshirts.

Not that Galo will ever say anything to him about it. It’s not his fault he _likes_ the picture of a pouting, frowning Lio in a hoodie that falls nearly all the way to his knees.

Shit, he’s so screwed.

“Want me to make you something?”

“I can handle making ramen,” Lio says, looking over his shoulder at Galo.

“You say that, but you just injured yourself. Again.”

“This isn’t an injury, it’s a minor inconvenience. Besides, it’s not like you can cook.”

Galo laughs. “Maybe not, but at least I can boil water without minorly inconveniencing myself. Hey!” He shoots up from the couch, launching himself over the back of it and ambling into the kitchen. “Let’s go get pizza!”

“We had pizza yesterday,” Lio says with a sigh. Galo stares down at him uncomprehendingly, and Lio returns his blank look for a long moment before rolling his eyes. “Isn’t there anyplace else we can go?”

“Sure, yeah, but it won’t be as good,” Galo says, scratching the back of his head. Lio can be weird sometimes – like it’s possible to have too much pizza or something? “What’re you hungry for?”

Lio shrugs, folding his arms over his chest, and Galo notices that he’s got the definitely-too-long sweatshirt sleeves bunched up around his elbows. There’s no way the cuffs are tight enough on Lio to hold the sleeves in place, which means soon the material will slip back down to swallow Lio’s hands up and the mental image is almost too ridiculously endearing for Galo to bear.

“How about we order in!” Galo suggests in a rush, voice completely off pitch in a too-high way. “We can–“

“As long as it’s not pizza,” Lio interrupts, walking around Galo to drop down onto the couch. He brushes against Galo as he does, and Galo likes to think it’s intentional even though it’s way more likely that it’s just because there isn’t exactly what one would call a spacious walkway between the kitchenette and living room.

“Chicken curry it is!”

Approximately ninety-eight seconds later the order has been placed and Galo is throwing himself onto the couch beside Lio, fishing the remote out from between the cushions and tossing it in the other man’s direction.

“What do you want to watch?” Lio asks.

“Your pick, Sleeping Beauty,” is what comes out of Galo’s mouth in reply, and he’s too busy stretching his arms above his head before draping one over the back of the couch behind Lio in a totally cool and casual way to really hear what the hell he just said. But a beat passes and his words catch up to him, just as Lio is cocking his head to the side a bit and giving him a curious look, his eyebrow raised.

“Sleeping Beauty?” he repeats, and Galo barks out a nervous laugh.

“Ha– Sure! Because, like. You sleep sometimes. And…” He stops there, since the second half of that new and highly inconvenient spur of the moment nickname is pretty self-explanatory and there’s a flush working its way up his neck that he doesn’t want to have to explain if he keeps talking.

Lio is still watching him, an amused glint in his eyes. “Because I sleep sometimes.”

“_Yes_,” Galo insists. Stubbornly. He pulls at the collar of his t-shirt with the hand not curled on the sofa behind Lio in a completely friendly way, absently wondering why he bothered to put on a shirt at all today. “And you’re not ugly, I guess.”

“Wow, thanks.”

Galo beams. “You’re welcome!” he says cheerfully, and Lio rolls his eyes.

“So it has nothing to do with the fact that you woke me up with a kiss that one time.”

“…Ahhh.” Galo is sure the flush has hit his ears by now, but he makes an attempt to look unbothered by this whole conversation. Even if the way Lio is watching him is making an eruption of weird squirminess happen in his stomach.

IT’S F I N E.

“Yeah. Yes.” Galo clears his throat, plastering another grin on his face. “That is definitely a thing that happened.”

“Which I suppose makes you my Prince Charming,” Lio murmurs, overly thoughtful as he taps his chin. “Even though you’re the complete opposite of charming.”

“Hey!”

“But I guess you’ll do.”

“Whatever, man, you’d be lucky to have– Wait, what?” Galo blinks, just as Lio is drawing a knee up onto the couch so that he can turn to face Galo more directly. He plants an elbow on the back of the couch, using it as leverage to lift himself up into Galo’s space, and Galo can do nothing but blink again at how close their faces suddenly are.

“You’re really slow, you know that?” Lio says, gaze darting between Galo’s eyes down to his mouth and back again.

“The hell I am!” Galo exclaims, immediately distracted from whatever is happening here to defend himself. “Anyone who has a burning soul as hot as mine can’t be _slow_. My speed is the fastest this city – no, this WORLD has ever seen! I put out fires faster than anyone!”

Lio frowns, just a little, his brows drawing down into a slight furrow that Galo wants to reach out and smooth away with a touch. “Okay, but not this fire.”

“Where?!” Galo looks around immediately, but his eyes snap back to Lio at his noisy exhale.

“_Here_,” he says, gesturing sharply between them. “This one. Mine. Yours.”

“You don’t have your fire anymore,” Galo says in confusion, and Lio makes another frustrated sound.

“You’re such an idiot,” he grumbles under his breath, voice tinged with a kind of awe that doesn’t match his words. Like he’s amazed by the depths of Galo’s stupidity and okay, fair, sometimes he’s slow on the uptake, but he’s not entirely sure what–

Lio moves in closer suddenly, his entire body shifting forward until Galo can feel the heat of him, even without his fire. He thinks he can even count the individual lashes framing Lio’s eyes and finds himself craning his neck forward to get a better look.

“I know you feel this,” Lio says, and of course he does, it’s _hot_ between them, has been ever since they fought together, Galo just didn’t think Lio had noticed.

…But he _had_ noticed.

Oh.

Galo’s eyes widen, mouth stretching into a grin that attracts Lio’s gaze almost immediately. The bridge of Lio’s nose turns pink, which Galo watches happen in mild fascination before Lio smacks the back of his hand against Galo’s chest.

“So are you going to do something about it or not?” he demands, impatient, and Galo is more than happy to oblige by swooping forward and claiming Lio’s mouth with his own.

It’s immediately better than last time – mostly because Lio isn’t dying and Galo isn’t swept up in a fit of panicked desperation. But it also helps that Lio kisses him back, surging up like a cresting wave to crash against Galo, smaller body somehow already plastered against Galo’s larger one and tipping him backwards onto the couch cushions. His hands are on Galo’s face and he’s half in Galo’s lap, so Galo wraps an arm around his waist to pull him closer and fit their hips more snuggly together.

“It’s about time,” Galo says when Lio draws back to take a much needed breath. He smiles stupidly up at him as Lio’s eyebrows lift.

“You can’t be serious,” he replies, hands sliding down from where they were cupping Galo’s cheeks to brace against his shoulders instead. And sure enough, the sleeves of his sweatshirt have slipped down to pool around his wrists. “I’ve been waiting for you to get your shit together for _weeks_.” He shifts his weight, bringing one hand up to flap it around in an annoyed gesture, which looks just as ridiculous as Galo had thought it would since the excess material immediately swallows up his fingers. “You think I like sleeping on your couch? I thought I’d be in your bed a month ago, easy.”

Galo snorts, tucking an arm beneath his head. “You probably should’ve made a move sooner then,” he says, and Lio splutters indignantly before scowling down at his hand and yanking his sleeve back up.

“How the hell is this on me?”

“Because those are the rules,” Galo says, like it’s just _so_ obvious and he isn’t lying here spouting whatever bullshit pops into his head. He continues, quite magnanimously, “See, I made the first move–”

“You were _saving my life!_” Lio interrupts, ducking down to shove his face in Galo’s with a glare.

“Hey, that was a pretty romantic gesture!”

Lio scoffs. “Any decent person would’ve done it.”

“But I’m the _decentest_ person, so it’s better coming from me.”

“You can’t even form a proper sentence without using words that don’t actually exist.”

Galo waves that off with an unconcerned shrug. “Anyway, you left me hanging after that. So the delay is definitely your fault.”

“Uh-huh.” Lio sits back, crossing his arms over his chest, sleeves dangling down his sides. He lifts his chin a bit. “You were just too chickenshit to follow up.”

“Oi!” Galo pushes up onto his elbows, trying to close some of the distance between them again. “This burning firefighter soul is _not_ chicken!”

“Oh my god,” Lio mutters, pressing a sweatshirt-engulfed hand to his mouth. Trying to cover a laugh, Galo abruptly realizes, and something brilliant and warm balloons in his chest. “Just give me flowers next time you’re saving my life,” Lio says after a moment. “That way everyone’s clear on the fact that you’re definitely into me.”

“I _am_ into you,” Galo says easily, and he’s quick to grin when Lio’s nose goes pink again. “For a guy who was fiery enough to be the leader of Mad Burnish, you’ve been more like an ice prince lately. Like I was supposed to know you felt the same way!”

“Princess, wasn’t it?” Lio murmurs. “Sleeping Beauty?” He’s still got his hand blocking half his face, but he looks somewhat flustered, gaze pinned on nothing in particular off to the side, so Galo is pretty sure he’s just hiding. A beat passes and then his eyes snap back to Galo’s. “You just don’t know how to read the signals,” he says, and throws his arms out wide. “Why the hell else would I be wearing this stupid sweatshirt?”

And god, it’s _so big_. It looks even bigger with Lio’s arms spread out as they are, hands completely lost in the sleeves and the bottom half of the hoodie a puddle of material against the top of Lio’s thighs. Galo’s also just noticing there’s some kind of dumb anime mech suit on the front of it that’s nowhere near as cool as the Galo dé Lion, and he makes a half-assed attempt to stifle a snicker that Lio only rolls his eyes at.

“I figured you were cold.”

“Well.” Lio waves a hand again. It still doesn’t _not_ look adorable. “I was. But still!”

“Not when you’re with me, though,” Galo says, flopping down onto the couch again so that he can circle his arms back around Lio’s waist. “I warm you up.”

“Mm…” Lio moves with him easily, bending down low until all Galo has to do is lift his chin to bring them back together. “I guess.”

“I ain’t starting anymore fires, though.”

“Too late, I think,” Lio breathes out, and Galo huffs a little before caving and arching up to kiss the other man, long and slow and sweet. It ends too quickly when Lio tears himself away and tries to yank the sweatshirt off over his head.

_Tries_.

“What,” Galo says, watching him struggle with all the extra material. He’s pretty sure Lio’s arm is stuck somewhere in the length of one of the sleeves.

“You were right,” Lio says, voice muffled since he’s still being smothered by the hoodie. “Which isn’t something I say lightly and probably won’t ever happen again, but you were right, you warmed me up, and now I’m _hot_.”

Galo has to bite his bottom lip to keep from sniggering. “You’re welcome?” he tries, and Lio makes some sort of strangled sound and squeezes his thighs around Galo’s hips in a warning sort of way.

“Help me, you asshole, I’m stuck!” he finally complains, and Galo gives in to the laughter bubbling up in his throat and slides his hands up Lio’s sides beneath the sweatshirt to help free his arms and dislodge it from his head. By the time they have it off, Lio’s hair is sticking out in every direction from the static and there’s a disgruntled look on his face.

“Saved you again,” Galo says, tossing the sweatshirt into some random corner of the room.

“Hope you brought flowers,” Lio promptly returns. He’s flushed all over from his battle with the hoodie and currently making attempts to smooth his hair back down, which is entirely pointless because Galo’s just going to bury his hands in it and mess it all up again. “I’d hate to have to sleep on the couch for another two months.”

“Think there’s some dandelions out back behind the building.” Galo’s still got his hands trailing up and down Lio’s sides, and Lio pauses in his hair smoothing to peer down at him suspiciously.

“You’re going to give me a weed?”

“Dande_lion_, though!” Galo insists, and Lio snorts out a laugh.

“Alright, fine. I accept,” he says, and lets Galo tug him back down into another kiss.

The thing is…he’s _never_ going to be able to stop thinking about it now.

But hey, you know what? That’s totally fine.

  


**FIN**

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on twitter if you like, I'm **serasarahhhh** over there.
> 
> ~ Maxine


End file.
